Archive for the ‘Cuckoo’s Nest’ Tag
Conversations on the way to school
I think there is a book in the making, lurking in the corners of the car as I drive Seven to school.
He’s been working on painting the basement laundry room this summer.
I say this summer because most people would paint a 6′ x 10′ room in a few hours.
Our Mr. Fix-it is doing home make-over on our laundry room.
I think he has logged about 72 hours so far and isn’t finished yet. It will be the nicest room in the house when he is finished.
At this rate he may be able to do all our home improvement projects by Christmas.
Anyway, today’s conversation centered around his discovery of my old circular saw.
The dangerous power tool hasn’t been used in about 20 years. It was hidden away behind some junk in the above mentioned room.
My first words reflected my immediate thoughts…DON’T EVER PLUG IT IN!
Mr. Tool Time was so fascinated he wondered why we hadn’t used it before.
I told him because it would be like going after a squirrel with an elephant gun.
I think I lost him on the metaphor.
I’ve since locked up the saw in the attic.
Seven’s parting comment was, “can I have it as a wedding present when I get married?”
Sure…and won’t Mrs. Seven be delighted.
Note to self, get rid of this deadly weapon at the next garage sale.
She’s a vegetarian poser
As of this day I no longer recognize Six as a vegetarian.
If anything, she is a junk-food-etarian.
How can you be a vegetarian if you don’t eat vegetables?
What do you call someone who’s main food groups are Sugar, Starch, Caffeine, and Chemical Additives?
Sorry Six, you posed as a vegetarian to disguise your bad eating habits.
Not good…not acceptable…not family!
Not your usual vacation memories
I have great vacation memories.
And I have some vacation memories you may think are a little odd.
See, I have this weird thing that I try to return from vacation and change some aspect of my life.
It must come from being anal…or maybe with so much time to think and reflect…new ideas come naturally.
There is a saying in business about going to a seminar or conference…
If you come home with one good idea then the event was worthwhile.
Maybe I’ve transfered that principle to family vacations as well.
Being an overachiever in some areas, I usually come home with more than one.
What is a weird memory from Vacation 2010?
Well, we stayed in a luxury condo that was almost new. As we explored the cabinets in the kitchen I discovered a 3-ring binder with 3 or 4 inch rings. Inside was gathered all the product information for all the appliances and gadgets in the condo.
Well, blow me down! As Popeye was known to say in amazement!
Simple but practical – right?
I can hear the groans but that’s one idea I came home with and have been in the process of rounding up all our product information since we returned.
That’s just me. I’m sure Two and Four can appreciate this if no one else can.
A day in the minefield
One of the unpleasant rites of Spring is removing the landmines left in the backyard all winter by the family dog.
I get to do it because I’m the best…or least I have the biggest investment in the job done right.
I would be the first responder to the consequences of a shoddy job so if you want the job done right…do it yourself.
Three months of dog poop.
Seven started to help.
It too him 30 minutes to dress in a makeshift hazmat with storm boots, shop goggles, and yellow kitchen gloves.
If that wasn’t enough, he wanted to use a snow shovel to remove the toxic waste.
I reassigned him to a more pedestrian chore.
Too ban dogs don’t hibernate.
Not the right man for my daughter!
Last night was Daddy’s Night at Eleven’s preschool.
I finally had the opportunity to meet the boy who has been charming my daughter.
She talks about him a lot.
His father blew me away when he said his son told him he wanted to marry Eleven.
Yikes! She is only four.
Well, I figured she will probably meet somebody else in the next twent years or so.
He may move away.
We may move away.
Well the story gets worse.
Today I was conscripted to help with the preschool class Valentine’s Day party.
To my horror HE showed up wearing a skirt!
Yes, the boy who wants to marry my baby came to preschool wearing a skirt!
OK…call it a kilt.
But their teacher said he wears it every chance he gets.
No…No…No…No!
Remember the family rule…no dating until you are 18 or graduate from high school.
I guess there is no reason to be upset.
I’m cool.
The $20,000 pair of socks
Filed under: Memories, Reflection | Tags: Big Family, Cuckoo's Nest
Leave a Comment Friday.
I planned to squeeze driving my brother-in-law to the ophthalmologist between dropping kids off at school and picking them up.
It had been about a month since his retina surgery. He actually drove to our house (scary).
On the way there he showed me his appointment reminder.
“That says January 22 doesn’t it?”
It said January 27.
We pulled over and called. He wanted to come in anyway because his eye was feeling “funny”.
As it turned out his retina was coming unglued…so to speak…and needed immediate surgery.
Yikes.
Meanwhile we get a call that Nine needs to be picked up from school because she has the flu!
While he went under the knife I rushed home to take Eight to the dentist.
Seems she needed to get more familiar with her toothbrush and we were there for three of her nine cavities to be filled.
Take her home and go back to the hospital.
Ooops…need to stop off on the way to pick up prescriptions for numerous family members and the DOG!
Yes the dog.
Our family pet is now on three medications as a result of my being brow beaten by the animal rights Nazis when our attempted adoption of a puppy was rejected.
Side note…she is a new dog on the medication…the equivalent of canine Geritol.
Anyway back to the hospital.
I must reek of hand sanitizer by now too.
As we waited in the recovery room my bro-in-law and I joked that each surgery cost about $20,000 but at least he got to keep the cool hospital socks they give you when you have surgery.
He now has two pair, hospital gray, cushioned, with skid protection strips on the bottom.
Gotta go, I have one more run to the pharmacy for his pain killers.
I remember the definition of hospice: an organization dedicated to the physical, spiritual, and emotional needs of the terminally ill…also known as a family.
Oh yes, all day long I’ve been thanking God for good health and the blessing to be the one running here and there for my crazy, wonderful family.
House arrest
Five is under house arrest.
Her first encounter with “going away to college” didn’t go well.
She isn’t going back.
She is giving community college a chance…or is it the other way around.
I haven’t been able to write about it until I stumbled onto the term house arrest…it says it best…it freed my tongue…I mean fingers.
She can leave the premises for community college…and for gainful employment.
Anybody know where you can get one of those ankle alarms the US Marshall service uses?
My crazy and wonderful alarm clocks
Filed under: Reflection | Tags: Children, Cuckoo's Nest, God, Hope
Leave a Comment Six AM sharp they are up! Sometimes earlier.
Daylight savings time didn’t phase them.
They laugh…they cry…they fight…they run…and they wake me up!
They are Ten and Eleven (age 4 and 5), my personal alarm clocks.
They can wake anyone in the house except a sleeping teenager!
And why are they so wonderful?
They are a reminder that I have a critically important reason to wake up! THEM!
I had lunch with an old friend. Someone I worked with in a place and time now long ago and far away.
He told me about some middle aged men he met who had been out of work for more than a year. He said they don’t even get out of bed in the morning any more.
How very sad.
Thank God for giving us purpose and meaning to life. And the gift to be able to see it!
One definition of depression is the inability to visualize a future.
It’s hard not to when it is giggling “Get up Daddy”!
The free health club
Once upon a time I pai
d good money to belong to a health club. Then I had to squeeze my schedule to find time to use the club. There was never enough time.
Lately, I’ve been logging several miles a day. Not at the gym. Not on a treadmill. But in the neighborhood pushing a jogger and chatting with my sweet ittle girls. Going to school. Going to the store. Running errands. Just going.
“Daddy, where are we going?”
“Just around the neighborhood, honey.”
“But why?”
“Just for fun.”
I used to climb 50 flights of stairs on the Stairmaster.
We live in an old Victorian home with a basement and a third floor.
I kept counting my flights on a few typical days and can you believe it… I did more than 100 flights a day.
How about weight lifting?
How about lifting four little girls ranging from 35 to 50 pounds each?
I think this may be another way in which I am better off than I ever was before.
Sometimes I wonder…
I’m thinking about the story about the boy throwing all the starfish on the beach back into the ocean. The starfish get washed ashore with the tide and then lay helpless on the beach, easy prey for birds and other predators. Well, this boy is running along throwing them back into the ocean to save their lives. An old man seeing this comments, “there must be millions of starfish on thousands of beaches, what does it matter if you save a few?”
The boy looks at the starfish in his hand then throwing it especially hard shouts, “it matters to this one!”
Touching story. Who knows if it is true. Sounds like a Rod McKuen poem.
Sometimes I feel like that boy…and I wonder…
Does his arm ever get tired?
Do some starfish he’s saved end up back on the beach…being dumb starfish…they don’t realize how good they have it being saved and come back for the thrill of the beach?
If he recognizes them does he feel sad?
When he is tired and discouraged by the returnees do the words of the old man haunt him?
Does he ever feel like calling it quits and just going swiming or making a sand castle?
Sometimes I wonder.
